


Panty Sniffers

by amber_sword_lilies



Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: ...Yep., Clue Is In The Title, Creased Up Laughing When I Got This Request, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 12:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16535036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amber_sword_lilies/pseuds/amber_sword_lilies
Summary: The scent of a lover's arbour… Or plain old (kinda gross) underwear sniffing? Oh, dear reader can torture the boys with only their sweet perfume...





	1. Noctis

Expecting him to be asleep when you got back, you slipped into the apartment as quietly as possible. As your keys clinked into the bowl, you winced at the harshness of the sound. He’d be out cold, or so you thought.

He was lying flat on the bed, in the dim gold of the sunset that poured through the window. Something about it made him glow. He’d always been a creature of the night, so sundown was his dawn. His bare skin glowed warmer, a deep contrast to the bluish black of his hair. There were times his beauty was distracting. They convinced you he was more than a prince; he was divinity.

It didn’t distract you for long.

Oblivious to your presence, he stroked himself with a lazy hand; the other gripped the sheets with fervour. The curtain of hair that fell over his face seemed longer. You took a step into the room and suddenly recognised the lace. Your mouth fell open.

He let out a soft moan, airy and sweet. You scoffed in disbelief, shaking your head as he froze. A drop of precum slid over his fine, still fingers. The hand that had balled in the sheets snatched your panties from his face.

Once he locked on you, his deep blue eyes turned into saucers.

“Caught you.”

He made his movements slowly, fist tightening around the underwear and the other hand retreating to push himself upright. An embarrassed stutter left his pale lips, croaking and breaking with his voice. Grateful you couldn’t read minds, he was considering his options.

_Attack is the best form of defence._

He balled the fabric up and launched it at you. The element of surprise was on his side, but you still caught him before he could leave the bedroom. Tackled back onto the bed, your hands pinning down his wrists, he stared up at you in horror.

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

A blush came over his cheeks, deepened by his recent indecency and now the shame of being caught. He bit the inside of his cheek and struggled to look you in the eye. His mind was racing through excuses, explanations, arguments. All silenced when a single idea pulled the brakes on his train of thought.

_I’m the damned prince, and she’s pinning me down for this?_

You quickly realised that letting go of his wrist was a mistake. The room blurred around you as he turned you over and gave you a taste of your own medicine, gathering your wrists above your head. A smug grin spread on his pale lips as he looked down at your wide eyes. The deep blue of his gaze darkened as he pressed a heated kiss to your jaw.

“I’m your king, and I can do what I like,” he purred, his free hand skimming to your hip. “I missed you.”

As his hand slipped between your legs, your barely contained smile told him everything he needed to know.


	2. Prompto

His morning serenade to Insomnia echoed through the apartment. Prompto Argentum was a man of many talents; singing included. Clear and angelic, his voice was something he hid behind the torrent of the shower. The minute he cut the water off, he’d return to quietly mumbling lyrics and tunes until the next time he encountered something that would try to hide his voice. The vacuum, the radio. Whatever it was, you always felt like making it stop so that you could listen to him uninhibited.

Today you were acutely aware of his singing, as it would provide an indication of when you could brush your teeth. Bathing was still something he preferred to do in private, and you didn’t mind. He never sang if he thought you were listening. You were in a rush and due at an early meeting across town in an hour. You gave him enough courtesy time to wrap a towel around his lithe waist before heading to the bathroom.

He’d been about to begin combing his hair. Shaky from a lack of breakfast and the steam of the shower, he’d dropped the comb. When he ducked to retrieve it, his sharp eyes caught on something else entirely. They were simple; the plain type you wore every day. Judging by the rolled hem, you’d thrown them off in a hurry.

Prompto smiled as the memory of last night fluttered into his mind. It had been biblical rain, and the two of you had run back from the arcade in it. Soaked to the skin and dizzy with laughter, you’d been freezing. He’d let you shower first, of course, ever the understated gentleman.

He reached out with delicate fingers, plucking them from the floor and turning around to fling them into the laundry basket. The thought of the second act the two of you had performed to warm back up drifted into his mind, only to sit and fizz with lazy appeal. He unfolded the hem, playing with the stretch of the elastic. His nose had only just caught the scent of you when the door opened.

In panic, he let out a shriek. His grip on the fabric failed as they pinged across the bathroom to hit the wall, right next to your head. As a mess of limbs, he fell backwards against the tub, grasping wildly at the shower curtain for purchase.

You rushed forwards and searched him for pain.

“Crap! You okay?!”

He was beetroot red and mortified, but otherwise he seemed fine. He nodded weakly, then shook his head. His mouse of a response was quiet, shaking and higher-pitched than usual.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! They were just there and oh gods- I’m sorry!”

“Prom!” You interrupted his rambling, shaking your head gently. “I really don’t care about that right now. You sure you’re okay?”

“What? Oh yeah, I’m fine! Totally cool!” he blurted, the pitch of his voice soaring. _If she means horrified, ashamed, more scared than I was that time we got stuck in traffic and Iggy ran out of Ebony, then yeah. Yeah, I’m great._

Your lips had curled into a genuine smile at his antics. You rested your forehead on the edge of the tub and laughed in relief. You looked up again, propping your chin on the edge and searching the embarrassed expression he was still wearing, and in a fetching shade of fuchsia. His eyes had never been so big, and they were bright blue when he finally worked up the courage to look at you again.

“I’m sorry! Really, really, _really-._ ”

“Hey,” you soothed, reaching forward to cup his burning cheek. “Stop apologising. I really don’t mind; as long as you’re okay. Now stop telling me you’re sorry, there’s a hundred better things you can do with that mouth of yours.”

Just as his blush had begun to fade, your words had brought it back, dying his face a deep rouge. He smiled nervously, that same crooked grin that made his eyes sparkle. A small laugh bubbled from his throat as you leant forward, cupping his cheeks to kiss him sweetly.


	3. Ignis

Ignis Scientia was first and foremost the royal advisor. Secondly, he was the man of the house. The king of his own castle. And the cook. The maid. The butler…

It wasn’t that you didn’t offer to help; Ignis liked things to be done a certain way and he was a surprisingly stubborn man. Whilst not technically diagnosed as having any compulsive disorder, he was most definitely anal-retentive. He’d always make sure to let you down gently, before assigning you the simpler tasks purely on the assumption that they were hard to get wrong.

Apparently, there is an incorrect way to load and unload a washing machine.

As a result, he was making up the first load of the day. You’d barely become conscious, let alone left the bed. He’d emptied the basket out and began to unfurl balled socks and check pockets for the debris of everyday life. He’d never forgiven you for that time you washed a cashmere sweater of his and forgot your jeans had a tissue in them. Laughing at him hadn’t helped. His face had been priceless.

The rough fabric of the bottom of the laundry basket met his fingertips. Not as caffeinated as he’d like, he blinked at the remains. There was one more item of clothing. Not that it acted to cover much. It had been a gift for your anniversary. _A very selfish gift, Scientia._ Wine-stained memories that were far too indecent for this time of day filled his mind. It brought a smirk to his lips, breaking the usual stern expression he wore before he’d had his third coffee of the day. You weren’t supposed to wear them without his instruction; they were for special occasions, after all.

The realisation that he’d spent most of yesterday teasing you washed over him with satisfaction. Shaking his head in disapproval, curiosity got the better of him. He took one long draw and inhaled the scent of his efforts and your response. Lips parted in a coy smile, eyes shut in bliss and pride at his own abilities, he didn’t even hear you gasp at the door to the laundry room.

It was the unsettling sensation of wide eyes fixed on him that warned him. He opened his eyes and looked without turning his head.

_Oh shit._

Still half asleep, you weren’t sure if you’d really just seen him, the most refined and sophisticated man you knew, do _that_. Completely motionless, he swallowed thickly. _You’re not nearly as ashamed as you ought to be, Scientia_ his mind decided. _There’s only one way out of this, and you’re going to have to be suave_.

He carelessly tossed the panties into the machine and stood to his full height. Dressed in his usual sharp attire, he was a stark contrast to you, who wore wrinkled pyjamas, a bird’s nest of a bedhead and an expression that was somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

“It’s come to my attention that I have missed some detail of yours,” he spoke gracefully, words heavy with thought and eyes darkening with intention. He took slow strides towards you, voice low and silken. “A soft scent, light body, notes of summer berries and yet…”

His arm wrapped around your waist, fingers slipping under your shirt to send lightning strikes through warm skin.

“It’s missing something.”

A slender hand spread on your back, pulling you to him with insistence you knew all too well. His arousal was obvious as it pressed against your stomach. You shook your head and gave him an incredulous look.

“Would _that_ be the something?”

His lips parted in mock scandal. “Now, now, pet. Don’t be depraved.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and his irony, just as his lips came down to capture yours in a deep, velveteen kiss.


	4. Gladiolus

There were worse things than waking up in the middle of the night. One such thing was waking up from a fever dream with a crippling headache, a dry throat and a desperate craving for a glass of water. After returning from a trip through Leide that had about killed you, you’d fallen asleep in the car. You’d gotten to bed without waking up. He’d made sure of that.

You’d woken up alone this time.

Swinging your tired legs from the bed, you winced at the muscles that threatened to cramp before standing. You could easily navigate to the bathroom with your eyes closed, the borders of the walls and furniture perfectly mapped in subconscious memory. Limping, yawning and all but drunk on exhaustion, you’d plucked a glass from his bedside table and run your hand along the wall until the doorframe met your fingertips. A deep sigh slipped through the gap in the open door. _Maybe he was in the bath._

Head pounding, you screwed your eyes shut in anticipation of the blinding light. The switch clicked sharply over the low, drawn out growl from within the bathroom. It was utterly silent as you made your way to the sink, still blinking to adjust. The tall shadow you’d joined was completely still, save for a slow stroke of his wrist. The water trickled out, as you dipped a finger into it, waiting for it to reach the perfect, crisp cold that made condensation bead on the metal. Another wave of tiredness hit you. You gripped the edge of the sink with your other hand and locked your elbow, hanging by your shoulder to stay upright.

“Hey,” you yawned, eyes shut. Afterwards you gave him a content smile and mapped his features. Only a few days away, and you’d been terrified at the thought of his details slipping from memory.

He looked well rested; amber eyes bright and shining, wide even. His cheeks had a healthy flush heating the tanned skin. His hair was a little dishevelled, but then again it was the middle of the night. The plumpness of his bottom lip was released suddenly. He’d been biting it. His hand slowly fisted around something, sinking down from his face at a snail’s pace. Despite his efforts to hide it, you recognised them. Black fabric. Fabric you knew intimately.

Your gaze shot to his other hand.

Looking perfectly at home, if a little lonely, in his hand was the thick length of his cock. He was utterly touch-starved. A desperate vein throbbed between his fingers, running to the deeper pink of the head, glistening as another pearl of precum threatened to leave him as a begging plea for intimacy.

You locked eyes with him, narrowed yours slightly and raised an eyebrow. He gulped and brought his shoulders up, mumbling his excuse with a rare bashfulness.

“I didn’t want to wake you up.”

Blinking and beginning to shake your head, you filled the glass and turned the water off. You had to try not to break the tap. The tension that built and warmed deep in your belly had you gripping the glass with a fair amount of force.

You shot him one more incredulous look and were met by apologetically furrowed brows. At the slightest twitch of movement from his occupied hand, you shook your head again and waved your hand in dismissal.

“No, no. Carry on. Sort yourself out,” you sighed; tired and not quite believing you’d just seen Gladiolus Amicitia, the man himself, jacking off with your panties to his face. You’d caught him by surprise, but he truly was shameless.

You knew he was fairly scent driven, but this was a bit far. This was sneaky. This was primal. He’d looked so desperate, so needy, and without saying a word. Usually the sight of him wasn’t enough to get you going, not with the amount of time he spent naked. Exposure tolerance. However, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and you’d forgotten how good he looked in the heat of the moment.

You strode back to the bed, muttering darkly between gulps of water. “Unbelievable…”

Sighing deeply, you dropped back into bed and shut your eyes. You were heavy with tiredness, but heat was pooling between your hips, tying and untying a knot you’d come to know well on your trip. The image of the next slow pearl of precum that would leave the swollen head of his manhood flashed through your mind. You gritted your teeth and glared at the wall.

After one frustrated groan of defeat, you called into the darkness.

“Well, I’m awake _now_ anyway.”

The sound of eager footsteps racing from the bathroom threw a smirk onto your face.


End file.
